Viper
by The Never Ending Drums
Summary: Not all Villains come from the Narrows, not all Villains had a bad upbringing. The only thing separating the self-proclaimed normal people from the Villains, is simply one bad day...
1. Prologue

'I want you to look at me, I'm only here to help. Good, good, now I can help you. We can bring your life back. Your parents are willing to help you, that's why you're here. If you help me, I will help you, all you have to do is tell me what you know.' A heavy sigh quickly followed the man's voice.

'And what do you want to know?' The female's voice was sharp and seeped with annoyance.

'Tell me about the Batman.' The man continued still keeping patience.

'Batman? Why do you want to know about him?' She questioned slowly, patronizingly.

'You know who he is, I want to know.' He pressured the clicking of nails on a metal table following his words.

'Why not figure out yourself? It's rather easy...' She drawled a smug tone evident in her voice.

'You are trying my patience! At this point I will refuse to help you at all! You will forever remain a villain!' He growled out as a slam of plastic against metal echoed after his words.

'That is exactly what I want! I _like _the freedom! I_ revel _in the fact that my family shall _never_ insult me again! They were suffocating me, the rules were suffocating me! I am truly free of the reign of people who are corrupted themselves.' She snapped back before sighing and the tapping of nails came back the speed matching her harsh tone.

'I believe we can help each other more than we thought.' He suddenly spoke breaking the silence.

'How so?'

'A colleague of mine would appreciate your mindset,' there was banging as someone knocked on the door. 'Send her back to her cell this session is done, goodbye, Miss Gatiss.'

'My name is Viper,' a door slams shut and the scratching of a pencil against paper was the only sound left.


	2. One Bad Day

** This is a new story! (NO way!) And well I hope you like it, introducing my new character Evangeline!**

Cold, dark, I couldn't feel anything, pain wasn't there, shouldn't there be pain? Anger, that's there, I can feel it, burning, flooding through my veins. Dead, that's all I could see, _dead_. I clenched my jaw feeling a scream build in my lungs, unable to even mutter a cry I growled and rolled up the paper and threw it as hard as I could at the wall. Leaning against the wall I gasped feeling as if weights were pressing on my chest, _dead. I am truly alone,_ I clenched my fists and gave a small shriek as I raked my hands through my hair. I slid down the wall and held my head shaking as the words flashed through my mind. I jumped up and paced the room unable to keep still, _dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, _'dead!' I kicked the chair standing in my way watching as it screeched across the room.

'Evangeline!' I slowly looked at the door as my mother stepped in. She tsked and folded her hands; she would have crossed her arms if not for her wearing her dress. She could never dream of creasing her dress. I suppressed a sneer as she smiled at me teeth showing, which only emphasized her patronizing look. 'Oh look at you, no man would ever want to marry a girl that looks like you.' She clicked her tongue accentuating her bright red lips. She walked towards me taking a few seconds to fix her hair she recently had done to the newest style. 'Smile,' she put her hand on my cheek as she smiled again with the disapproving glint in her eyes. 'What's wrong my dear?' She questioned her voice hard with disapproval that I was not the perfect daughter.

'You would not be troubled to know,' I responded as I cocked my head to the side efficiently moving my cheek from her hand as I gave her a sickly sweet smile.

'It better not be of that silly little friend of yours,' she turned briskly and started walking to the door, her heels tapping as she walked. She turned and frowned disapprovingly, 'and what are you wearing? You should be dressed up! Get dressed! The Dashwood's are coming! Their son is coming,' she winked and I stared at her blankly. I couldn't even manage a wave of the hand as I lightly touched my eyebrow I could already feel a headache from the screech in her voice. I could hear her sigh as I closed my eyes, 'just get changed! And try to be nice this time! I don't need you harassing them,' she snapped slamming the door behind her as she left. I knew what she was doing on the other side. Fixing her hair, smoothing her dress, and plastering that horrible smile on her face as she made her way down the hallways concerned on whether or not she could ever find a rich young man for me. I looked at the newspaper in the corner of the room _abandoned, nobody would be there_. I grabbed my army coat and pulled it on, what I was wearing was perfectly acceptable where I was going. I looked in the mirror and fixed the collar. There was nothing wrong with my jeans, tee-shirt and worn converse. I licked my lips and lifted my chin seeing the burning anger in my eyes and the revolted sneer that was plastered on my face. _Like hell I was going to that ridiculous lunch where the only thing I would receive was looks of disdain and disapproval. I refuse to go to a lunch just to be forced to pretend to be the perfect candidate for a trophy wife_. I pivoted and walked to the window, _no, I have to get out of here. I have to be get out here, that's what she would have wanted_. I opened the window and scanned to make sure none of the gardeners were around. I climbed onto the ledge before jumping down, landing perfectly, after all I have been practicing for years. I slipped my phone out and turned it off before running to the secret exit and slipping out. She was being buried today, and I had no way to find her. I lifted the thick branches and slipped into my getaway car, one of my mum's old cars she thought got thrown away. I slammed the door and turned the key and stomped on the peddle. The car revved forwards bursting out of the branch curtains. I pressed the button for the roof and it opened making the wind rake its cold fingers through my hair sending it everywhere. I refused to slow down as I sped down the roads nearly crashing multiple times as I curved around corners drifting my way to the Narrows.

'Hey! Watch it lady!' A guy yelled at me a honk blaring after his words as I swerved in front of him. I ignored him as I slowed down nearing the Narrows. I stopped the car in front of my regular bar and I stormed in making my way to the makeshift rink.

'I'm guessing you want to fight?' The barkeep joked with a smile and I raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned and nodded, sometimes it annoyed me how happy Logan always was, even though his own sister was dead. 'Alright, alright, who wants to fight?' He exclaimed as he slammed his hand on the counter. A man stood up and looked at me.

'I will,' he announced with a thick Brooklyn accent and a nod to me. I nodded back and stepped into the rink, he stepped in after me.

'Alright! Well, go!' Logan announced raising a glass. I stared at him and waited for him to attack. I back stepped as he lunged at me and I lunged at him smacking him with all my might. I could feel a smirk grow as I continued to hit him with all my might, I could feel the tension and anger leave me as cold satisfaction seeped in instead.

'Evangeline Maria Letzia Gatiss!' I looked up from my drink directly into the furious face of my father. He grabbed my arm and pulled me up roughly, I winced from the bruises that were lining my arms.

'Yes, father?' I asked and I gasped as he pulled me out of the seat and towards the door. Unlike my mother he could care less about his suit after all; he could always buy a new one.

'You should not be here,' he growled out as he practically tossed me into the back seat of the car that was outside the bar. He sat down beside me slamming the door, he stayed silent as the car drove away and I glanced at him remaining silent as well. I glanced at my knuckled as I flexed them; I winced seeing the cuts covering them. 'It is not ladylike for you to fight,' he stated monotonously not caring really, it was simply his job to advise me. I smirked as I looked at him, my father didn't care about me, or even his bloody reputation. Money cures anything he says, all he cares is that mother doesn't annoy him. That is one of the only things we agree on; mother is too annoying to be around.

'I apologise,' I responded and he nodded, that was always good enough for him.

'Jameson will attend to your cuts; your mother will wish to speak to you after. Then you have the ambassador from the University coming over to check over your work.' I nodded and I touched my cheek and rubbed my fingers together, _blood, I had a cut on my cheek as well_. 'You beat them I'd say,' he glanced at his watch. 'Good job,' I smirked and looked over at him, well father did care about winning was well. The car pulled to a stop and I got out only for mother to slap me, I frowned as she exclaimed in disgust at the blood on her hand.

'You disgusting vermin!' She shrieked as she found a hankerchief and wiped the blood off her hand. 'You're always getting into trouble! We will _never_ find you a husband at this rate!' She tried to control herself as she forced a smile, 'well we will have to try. Now that, that revolting friend of yours is dead there is no reason for you to spend time with those peasants.' She sighed before smiling smugly at me once again. 'But well no man would want an emotionally damaged girl would he?' She questioned and she patted my other cheek. 'but don't worry we already have an appointment set up for you with a psychiatrist.'

'I don't need a doctor,' I pushed past her and she grabbed my wrist pulling me back to face her.

'Now you listen to me you ungrateful girl, I _raised _you and you are acting like a fool! You don't deserve _any _of this! But your father and I are nice enough not to throw you out on the streets! Even if that's what you _deserve_,' she spat before dropping my wrist and looking at her hand as if I had contaminated her. 'Go shower and get dressed, you smell like sweat and blood,' she hissed and I stared at her.

'Of course..._Mother_,' I hurried to my room feeling the burn of anger flood through my body. She was happy my friend died, and that was not acceptable. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall in the hallway as images of her dying flashed through my mind. No, I shouldn't be thinking of her, there are other people I need to find, whoever killed my friend. I pushed off the wall and walked to my room smirking as I imagined crushing windpipes and blood rushing over my hands. Whoever did it would pay.


End file.
